


On a Different Shore

by starrdust411



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Dark, Dark Luke, Depression, Emperor Vader, F/F, F/M, Female Luke Skywalker, Heavy Angst, Imperial Luke Skywalker, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Past Torture, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrdust411/pseuds/starrdust411
Summary: Across a different sea of stars, Imperial officer Luke Skywalker dreams of freedom from the world of darkness and pain that is the New Empire.





	1. The Walls Converge

As a child Luke had never really given much thought to the concept of time. Time had always been a source of conflict, something there was either too little or too much of all at once. As an adult, there still seemed to be no sense in worrying about time as it always seemed to be marching on without regard to those caught in its powerful grasp. Time was impossible to change, but parallel universes had become a more interesting thing to consider.

It was a new concept to Luke, but something that had become a source of endless fascination. Some where there were an infinite number of universes just like this one with an infinite number of Lukes who could be similar to her, but different in minute ways. She imagined that somewhere there was a Luke that had made it into the academy with Biggs or one who had stayed on Tatooine with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. Maybe there was even a version of Luke that had actually managed to complete the training and become a Jedi Knight, a thought that was both thrilling and depressing all at once.

The possibilities swirled through her mind as they often did during council meetings. It was during those sessions that Luke often wondered if there had ever been a version of herself that could actually feign interest in treaty negotiations with condescending old ghouls.

One of those ghouls in particular was currently leering at her, no doubt having noticed that her attention had drifted far away from the confines of the chamber and the seemingly endless series of debates held within. Grand Moff Rothlott had never made any effort to hide his distaste for her and Luke was always mindful to return the old man’s open contempt in kind. 

A pointed cough came from just over her left shoulder, her Lieutenant’s way of indicating to Luke that she needed to get back on task, but Luke had already sensed the growing frustration filling the chamber. She lifted her gaze from where it had been resting on her data pad’s display in order to regard the sea of withered faces and sunken, glassy eyes staring at her in either muted annoyance or quiet concern.

“Perhaps,” Grand Moff Rothlott began, tapping his fingers irritably against the smooth surface of the conference table, “it would benefit Admiral Skywalker if I rephrased my points in a more entertaining manner.”

“Not at all Rothlott,” Luke responded mildly, keenly aware of the way the other representatives and officers bristled at the tone. “You mistake my silence for lack of interest, but I am merely familiarizing myself with the session notes. Please, proceed with your aimless rambling.”

The tension within the chamber grew as it often did during her exchanges with Rothlott. The old man was bold, she would give him that, as there weren’t many officers who were brave enough to speak in such a manner to Grand Admiral Skywalker.

From her position at the head of the expansive table, she watched as Rothlott’s sunken cheeks pinked with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. He had the demeanor of a school teacher in the midst of dealing with an unruly student and Luke couldn’t help reflecting that this open defiance hadn’t been in her nature as a child. “I suppose this is the sort of behavior one should expect from a former member of the so called ‘rebellion,’” he all but sneered. “These meetings would function better if we could meet with Lord Vader himself, not waste our valued time humoring his so called ‘apprentice.’”

For a moment Luke found herself agreeing with Rothlott. She was even worse at being an Imperial Officer than a politician, but Vader wanted her to attend these meetings, to lead his forces, and represent him even if they both knew that Luke had no love for his new Empire.

“Emperor Vader is a busy man, Rothlott,” she reminded him as she often did whenever he dared to ask about Vader’s whereabouts. “There is the small matter of running an entire galaxy that he must attend to. I’m afraid it’s a duty that precedes these council meetings in importance. That is why the Emperor has placed me in your esteemed company, in order to represent his interests as well as relay the urgency of our discussions.

“And while I do understand that my history with the Rebel Alliance may cause some to question my allegiance, I do feel it is important to bear in mind that I have been a high ranking Imperial Officer for over three years now. Although I am sure that for a man of your advanced age, Rothlott, three years doesn’t seem like much, it certainly was enough time for me to assist Emperor Vader in restructuring the government into its current state.”

Her words did little to dispel the air of uncertainty in the room and Luke was not surprised. No one in the Imperial government trusted her and she was fine with that. There wasn’t a single member of this or any other Imperial council that she regarded with anything less than contempt. 

“If we could proceed…” Grand General Offmul began wearily, but Rothlott was not willing to let the matter settle.

“Your past deeds only prove you to be an experienced traitor, Admiral,” Rothlott shot back. His murky eyes seemed to hold an acrid bitterness that he directed purely in Luke’s direction. “The Emperor may see some fleeting potential in you due to your shared practices in his religion, but rest of the Empire sees you for the potential turncoat that you are.”

Luke remained silent as she wove her fingers together and clenched down on her hands until her fist felt painfully tense against the sturdy table. There was not much for her to say. In her heart she wanted the Empire to fall, for the scattered rebellion to somehow regain its strength and topple this shame of a government that she had helped to create. She was just as much of a fraud as Rothlott thought, except he mistook her for a power hungry spy when in truth she was a defenseless prisoner.

Yet even as she sat in pointed silence her Stormtroopers took up arms, raising their blasters and aiming them at the members of the council even those who had not uttered a word since the meeting had commenced. Her Stormtroopers had been instructed by Emperor Vader to take action against any who so much as whispered a passive threat to her authority and while it was tempting to allow the potential blood bath, Luke knew there was no call for such needless violence.

Luke turned towards her Lieutenant and reached out and communicated for her to have the men stand down. Her Lieutenant gave the signal for the Troopers to stand down, much to the relief of the council and Luke reasoned that now would be as good of a time as any to disband.

“I do apologize for my Stormtroopers,” she said, allowing the lack of sincerity to color every syllable of her words as she stood. “While I do not wish for violence, they have their orders from the Emperor just as I. And while I may not be the Emperor himself, I must be off to give Lord Vader the notes from today’s session and I always give thorough notes.”

*

“I think you should go easy on the old man.”

Luke shook her head at the comment and the teasing manner in which it had been spoken. She turned to her Lieutenant and saw nothing sort of humor dancing in her green eyes. “He started it,” Luke said with an air of feigned defense.

“Yeah, but you enjoy baiting him,” she countered knowingly. 

“I need to get my entertainment where I can,” Luke shrugged as she slumped back against the lift’s sleek siding. 

She had dismissed the Stormtroopers as she often did when preparing for her private meetings with the Emperor, but Lieutenant Jade being her personal bodyguard meant that she was required to remain with her until the moment Luke set foot in Vader’s private quarters. Not that Luke minded. Jade was the only person in the Imperial forces that Luke didn’t hate, a fact that she tried her best to conceal from Vader. 

The thought of her master caused a familiar tension to coil its way through her body and suddenly the simple pleasure of being with limited, welcomed company was soured. 

Closing her eyes she thought back to her first confrontation with Vader in Cloud City. Master Yoda had been right when he had said that Luke wasn’t ready to face him, but Luke hadn’t prepared herself for Vader’s cruelty. He hadn’t been satisfied with just beating her that day, but had taken Luke and twisted her into his own creation. Vader had probed her mind and extracted every secret the Rebellion had entrusted her with. Countless had died from the information he had gained. Leia, Chewie, the droids, and surely Han too were all casualties of her failure.

Flexing her right hand she listened carefully and swore that she could hear the gears churning beneath her artificial skin, metal rods shaking from the strain she placed on them. She wondered if there was a parallel world where a different Luke had stayed on Dagobah with Master Yoda and completed her training or if there had been one who had actually managed to gain the upper hand and defeat Vader in Cloud City.

“Do I have any time before my meeting with the Emperor?” Luke sighed. Suddenly she felt very weak, drained. She wanted something to eat, a chance to splash water on her face, or a few minutes to lie down in her chamber, anything except meeting with her master.

Luke could feel her Lieutenant’s eyes on her, could feel the energy in the small elevator car shift. Jade must have hit a switch on the panel as they came to a lumbering halt. 

_“You have a minute,”_ Jade sent her way as she came to slump beside her. _“Just… relax.”_

Their uniforms were thick and covered most of their bodies, but even through the fabric Luke imagined that she could feel the warmth coming from Mara’s arms, smell the hint of spice that wafted from her neatly combed red hair. Inside the turbo lift they were safe from prying eyes, but the security cameras were always watching and Luke dared not make a single move in order to avoid incriminating either of them.

There were so many things that she wanted to say to Mara, through words or with the Force, but she kept them all to herself. Even sending feelings to another was dangerous if discovered by Vader and Luke felt an ache of loneliness grow inside of her.

*

The air inside of Vader’s private chamber was frigid. It held a dry chill that even the layers from her dress uniform could not ward off and the frosty feeling always found a way to sink down straight to her toes. A part of her was reminded of Hoth and the first time she had experienced cold and understood the term “freezing,” but she pushed those thoughts out of her head.

Vader sat in his makeshift throne, a dome like chair made entirely of cold metal and circuits that always seemed to find its way on board any starship or chamber he where resided. Once Luke had wondered what the dome was for, what benefit to Vader it offered, but it didn’t take long for her interest to fade away.

Luke bowed her head and lowered herself until she was resting on a single knee as she had been trained to do. “Master,” she greeted, although Luke knew that was not what Vader wanted to hear from her. “I have come to…”

“You are late,” Vader breathed, his tone flat and deliberate, leaving no room for question even if the statement were not true.

Luke remembered timing her arrival precisely, asking her Lieutenant before they even reached the chamber door if they had delayed their arrival too long, only to be assured that they were on time for the meeting. Yet if Vader insisted that she were in the wrong, Luke already knew there was no use in saying otherwise. “My apologizes master,” she said, speaking the words as if she were reciting lines from a play she no longer wished to be in. “I was…”

“And I have received word that you were in conflict with the council again,” he cut in and Luke felt her jaw tighten in response.

_It’s your fault,_ she found herself thinking bitterly. _You put me on that council. It’s your fault._

She knew those hostile thoughts were dangerous, as Vader could easily look into her mind through the bond he had created between them, but a part of her had stopped caring about that as well. 

Vader stood, his dark figure looming over her bent form like a mountain blocking out the sun. She felt her legs begin to shake from fatigue and frustration as Vader stepped down from his seat and over towards her side. Luke knew instantly that he had no intention of allowing her to stand and suddenly wished that she had taken more care before kneeling.

“You have a temper in you,” Vader observed as he came to stand beside her. His long black cape engulfed her vision and as usual Luke had to marvel at the way Vader’s large body always felt so frosty whenever he was near. “I thought we had corrected this. Perhaps you need to be retrained.”

Her limbs felt heavy and tight at the prospect of being “retrained” by Vader once again and already a pressure began to build between her eyes. “I’m sorry master,” she offered in her sincerest tone.

_“Father,”_ Vader sent to her, his voice slicing into her mind like the tip of a well sharpened knife.

She closed her eyes against the word, her throat suddenly constricting as if the act of speaking would destroy her, but she knew it had to be done. “I’m sorry… Father. Please forgive me.”

Vader’s feelings had always been impossible for her to feel out, the dark lord keeping his thoughts hidden well through years of training, but Luke knew already that this was what he wanted, that this was the only thing he craved from her. 

“Rise, my child.”

Luke got to her feet, her legs seeming to sigh with relief in response. Vader stood in front of her now, his body like a thick black pillar. At times Luke wondered if he were really alive since he gave no warmth and seemed to have no smell, but he spoke and he breathed so that must mean something.

“Shall I give you my report?” she asked, before adding mindfully “Father?”

Vader did not answer, ignoring her questions the way he often did. Instead he lifted a single gloved hand and brushed back the blonde hair draped over her forehead. Her hair had been longer once, sweeping well past the small of her back, but Vader had made sure to have it all shaved off during the start of her training. It was only now beginning to grow again, and Luke was careful to keep her hair draped across the right side of her face in order to the scar that cut across her cheek and over her brow.

“Look at me,” Vader commanded and Luke did, because she only faced Vader when instructed to do so. 

She gazed up into the vacant black lenses where his eyes might have been as his hand came to rest just beneath her chin. His large gloved hands cradled her face, holding her gaze and Luke wanted desperately to look away from the face that had appeared in so many of her darkest dreams.

“Lucia.” 

The name, her name, came out like a deep rumble from Vader’s synthetic voice box and Luke felt her skin crawl despite herself. She hated hearing her proper name, yet it was something Vader took pleasure in saying. She was never “Luke” anymore to anyone except herself, only “Lucia” to Vader or “Grand Admiral Skywalker” to the officers and the troops.

Vader's thumb brushed against her cheek, caressing a part of her jaw that had once been broken beneath that same hand. 

A wave of emotion began to swirl inside of her, but Luke did her best to fight it off and press the feelings back deep down to the pit of her stomach. Her feelings had been flowing too freely since she had entered Vader’s chambers and it was more than likely that a stray thought or bitter emotion had already made its way to the Emperor. Luke had never been skilled at managing her feelings, a task that was even more difficult whenever Vader was around. It was impossible for her to look at him and not see pain or death reflected back in his vacant glass eyes.

Vader’s touch lingered far longer than it had any right to and a dangerous heat began to creep its way up Luke’s neck as the urge to speak began to form inside of her. Luke fought it off and decided instead to change tactics, choosing to project a different emotion in Vader’s direction. Fatigue was the easiest choice as it was a safe emotion that could offer an explanation for any erratic thoughts that had managed to slip by.

At last Vader’s large gloved hand began to recoil, his fingers slipping away from the tip of Luke’s chin with pointed reluctance even as he took a pronounced step away from her, standing that much straighter. “Your report can wait,” he relented. “You may return to your chambers.”

Luke was careful not to allow her relief to be too obvious as she offered Vader a low bow in thanks. “Thank you my… Father,” she said, silently chastising herself for the slip. “I shall be sure to present my findings when we again meet this evening.”

*

Silence and solitude had become amongst Luke’s most sought after treasures, and as with all other joys they were something that Vader allowed Luke to have very little. 

In her chamber there was not much to be found. The room was hardly more than a large white box with a well maintained cot that Luke used more often for reflection than sleep and a closet that held only spare uniforms. Luke reasoned that it was better than her previous lodgings when she had been locked away in a cell with only a slab of metal to rest her head at night. Vader trusted her more now; just enough to have a space to call her own, but Luke was still required to surrender her blaster and lightsaber before she retired. 

Exhaustion clawed at her as she peeled off the layers of her uniform, tugging off her gloves one finger at a time before removing her jacket carefully so as not to add any creases before placing it on a hook in the closet. Already her body felt lighter and more flexible without the stiff suit jacket encasing her limbs, not that she enjoyed looking at her bare arms. It was a small difference, but she was always able to see the near invisible seem just above her wrist where synthetic skin met her true flesh. Her left arm was not much better as it was littered with half-moon shaped scars where Luke had once sunken teeth into her own arm in an effort to muffle a scream during a particularly training session.

Luke made her way over to her cot where she rested her weight before preparing to yank off her boots. Her feet and calves seemed to sigh in relief at the loss of the leather casing, but she decided against removing her sock after remembering that one of her toenails had not grown back on her left foot just yet. She placed her boots flush against the wall before standing once more in order to step out of her dress pants.

She folded the slacks with practiced care, placing them on a hanger beside her jacket before running a bare hand over her thighs and feeling the small patches of roughed, dulled scars highlighting the places where bone had once broken through skin. 

People often told Luke that she was beautiful, lovely even, and she told herself that despite her broken nose and scared face it could still be true. Not that she deserved to feel beautiful or good after all the horrible things she had done.

Settling down against the stiff cot, she stared up at the ceiling hovering above her and began to feel an emptiness opening up within the pit of her stomach as she allowed her body to relax and her mind to drift ever so slightly. Even in her seclusion she was mindful to guard her thoughts. The connection Vader had built between them was strong and Luke was certain that the Emperor could reach out to her at any moment if he so chose.

Luke sighed, pressing her left hand to her forehead. She had dreamed about meeting her father so many times as a child and in every dream her father was strong, handsome, and kind yet Vader was as far from the imagined father as one could possibly get.

_No,_ she told herself sternly. _No, he is not my father. Anakin Skywalker was my father._

It was a thought she forced herself to remember often, even knowing that Vader could easily overhear, because it was one of the small comforts she could find. No father would force a child to endure the sort of pain Vader had inflicted upon her. She supposed the only small mercy the dark lord had bestowed upon her was failing to deliver Luke to Palpatine as he had been originally ordered and instead keeping her as a tool to use towards his own ambitions. Although becoming Vader’s apprentice and personal chew toy wasn’t exactly ideal either.

Luke frowned and turned to lie on her side and felt the emptiness inside of her grow. She missed the familiar warmth of her friends. Han, Leia, Chewie, the droids… Some days it felt as if a lifetime had passed since she had last seen them, others felt even longer. She missed the feel of Chewie’s warm fur coat when he wrapped her in one of his hugs, the way Artoo and Threepio could argue endlessly over the smallest disagreement, the way Han could run out of breath praising his beloved Falcon even while tearing the ship apart to make repairs, and Leia…

Luke found herself thinking about Leia often when she needed to be diplomatic, practical, or strong. She still remembered the way they would often sneak off to each other’s quarters on whatever base the Rebels were stationed, spending hours lamenting over the fact that they were often the only two women to be found for miles. They had only known each other for a handful of years, but in just a few months the two women had been closer than most sisters.

Yet Leia was gone now, executed along with the other Rebel officers even before Vader had over thrown Palpatine. Chewbacca hadn’t fared much better, turned in for the bounty on his head and killed months later. The droids had been rounded up and torn apart for scrapes and Han…

There had been no word of Han since he was encased in carbonite and sold to Jabba the Hutt. A part of Luke wanted to believe that he was still alive, that she could go back to Tatooine and free him herself, but it would be nothing short of miraculous for someone to survive so many years encased in solid metal.

_“Need some company?”_

Luke bristled at the sudden intrusion into her gloomy thoughts, but allowed herself to relax as soon as her surprise settled and allowed her to recognize Jade’s husky tone. Luke had never questioned Mara on her ways with the Force having guessed soon after the first display of her talents who she was and what she was there for. It was an open secret between them, something neither put to words and Luke took comfort in the knowledge that the Rebellion could still be alive and well if they were able to implant spies into the Empire.

Sliding off of her cot, Luke made her way across the room and towards the wall adjacent to her door. She knew already that Mara was just on the other side and being that much closer filled her with a kind of warmth that made the loneliness easier to bare. 

_“That depends on who’s asking,”_ Luke sent back, a wry, secretive smile pulling at her lips as she pressed her back flat against the sturdy wall. 

A wave of humor swelled out towards her and Luke could just faintly make out the notes of a soft chuckle within the bridge of their minds. _“Your master gave you a reprieve, eh? Shouldn’t you be training or perhaps doing something more becoming of a Grand Admiral?”_

_“The Empire won’t fall by the wayside if I take a moment to rest. And if it did, you would see no tears from my eyes.”_

For a moment Mara’s emotions flickered, a hint of reluctance drifting towards Luke in response to her comment before Mara managed to recover herself with a weak _“I know.”_

_Why haven’t you killed me yet?_ Luke longed to ask her. _I’ve given you so many chances._

Yet Luke knew already that Mara had never been sent for her and that the spy was just biding her time in search of an opening for her true target. Not that Mara was ready to take on Vader. Even if they combined their efforts Luke was doubtful that there would be any way to dispose of the dark lord. 

For a moment their connection seemed to grow cold and Luke began to fear that she had slipped and projected her dark thoughts out to Mara. Reaching out she felt certain that Mara was still there, that she hadn’t moved, but there was a sort of uneasiness wafting from her as if the usually unflappable “Lieutenant” was suddenly filled with hesitant doubt.

_“Mara… ”_

Her fingers brushed against the wall, smooth and cool against her palm, and Luke suddenly wanted to see Mara’s face, to look at her with her own eyes instead of feeling for her in this way, but physical intimacy was something she couldn’t have. To open the door and let Mara inside her quarters would be easy, bearing her disfigured body to another person less so, but the inherent danger in that simple act hung over her head like the proverbial ax ready to fall.

She began to withdraw, certain that this silence was Mara’s way of communicating her displeasure, but in that very same moment a warmth caressed her. It began at her chest then spread downward, the sensation so similar to that of actual human touch that Luke actually felt herself begin to blush. She sighed and began to gradually sink downwards until she was sitting on the cool floor. The sensation soon found its way to her thigh, stroking and brushing encouragingly until Luke actually found her legs beginning to part.

_“Mara.”_

 _“Don’t speak,”_ she sent back as something that almost felt like a press of lips reached her own.

Her left hand found its way to her own neck, her fingers brushing delicately against the skin just below her collar bone as her right hand rubbed against her thigh, imagining that she was able to grasp the phantom hand resting there.

Tears sprang to her eyes, because it had been so long since she had felt something other than loneliness and pain and the knowledge that this was Mara, that her unspoken feelings were being reflected back at her…

Her back arched as a pressure found its way inside of her, not deep or painful, but just enough to make her stomach coil with delicious heat and her toes curl. She wanted to reciprocate, to share in the feelings Mara was creating in her, but Luke was embarrassed to admit she wouldn’t even know where to begin. Instead she just closed her eyes and allowed herself to take it all in.

Blackness flashed in her mind quick and piercing as an almost pointed pain like a sharp pinch disrupted the sensation.

It was quick and disappeared just as it came, but Luke knew right away what it had meant and her heart began to hammer as panic seized her.

_“Stop. Stop!”_ she thought, but the damage had already been done.


	2. Into the Trap

Luke wasn’t able to shake the sense of discomfort that had settled upon her after the incident with Mara. She had tried to calm her mind by finishing reports for her next round of council meetings, reasoning that if anything were truly amiss her master would have summoned her back to his chamber. Yet no order ever came and Luke returned to Vader’s private suite that evening just as she always did. Mara was there to escort her and Luke felt her stomach fill with a heaviness she hadn't felt in years.

_"You should leave,"_ Luke sent to her, pushing the thought along with a wave of urgency as she forced herself to maintain an outward appearance of calm. _"Get as far from here as you can."_

_"I have a job to do,"_ Mara returned, her entire being radiating nothing except resolute composure as they walked in matching stride down the cavernous halls. 

_"You aren't ready,"_ Luke warned. _"You could train for another five years, push yourself to your limits and you_ still _won't be ready."_

Silence was her only answer, Mara's gaze a thousand miles away as she stood with her jaw firmly set. It was just as well as they had arrived, the doors to Vader’s private suite looming before them with an even more menacing aura than usual. Luke took a moment to look at Mara and memorize the sharp planes of her face and the hardened gleam of her intense eyes and did her best to take it all into her heart. 

The door slid open with a sharp hiss that seemed to slice through the air and straight into her skin. With a reluctant twinge in her stomach she turned her back on Mara and entered.

Vader stood like a dark wraith in the middle of the chamber. As always he gave off nothing, his emotions too hidden beneath the layers of machinery but Luke already knew from the chill cutting into her that something was wrong so she kept her guard firmly up.

Luke offered to submit her report from the previous meeting to Vader once again, but he refused, instead guiding her to take her usual seat at the table that was set off in the far end of the chamber. There were only two seats despite the table's massive size and only one plate was ever laid out. Vader never actually ate with her and Luke wasn't sure if it was because he didn't need to or didn't want to do so in front of her, but Luke had lost interest in finding the answer some time ago.

The chair slid backward seemingly on its own and Luke sat down stiffly, her body tensing when Vader didn't join her at the head of the table as he usually did. Instead a bottle of wine sat alone on the otherwise empty table top, the label turned away from her sight as Vader's dark hand poured the contents into her glass. Luke stared at the drink with a suspicious eye; its blue, syrupy appearance gave off a fruity smell that was mingled with the familiar tinge of alcohol.

Luke hadn't had a drink in years, not since before... Vader had never offered her anything stronger than blue milk or water with her meals, so to see her master serve her a glass of wine caused alarms to go off inside her mind.

Yet Luke knew better than to refuse anything Vader offered and even though everything inside told her not to do so, she grasped the stem of the glass in her gloved hand and watched the ripples move along the smooth surface. "Is there... cause for celebration my mast... Father?"

For a moment Luke heard nothing except the rasp of Vader's breathing device, but he seemed to reconsider silence in favor of offering a cryptic answer. "Your hard work is reason enough for reward."

Luke wasn't foolish enough to believe him, but she also knew better than to continue to press for an answer and forced herself to take a hesitant sip. The wine was just as syrupy in texture as she had suspected and sweet just on the cusp of being overpowering. Something lingered just beneath the surface of the drink's fruity flavor, but Luke didn't say anything even when the meal never presented itself and Vader continued to stand behind her silently until she finished sipping from her glass. When there was only a drop of wine left at the bottom of her cup her mouth began to feel as if it had been coated in a thin layer of film. She watched with a sense of unease as Vader proceeded to refill her glass.

"I don't believe I should, my lord," she ventured, purposely withdrawing her hand and resting it in her lap. "My stomach is still empty and I'm afraid more would not sit well."

The cup shifted towards her, gliding near the edge thanks to invisible hands as Vader made his way to the head of the table at last, circling like a predator that had found his prey alone and defenseless. "One more before won't hurt," he said as the word _"Drink"_ pressed into her.

The command hadn’t been strong enough to bend her will, but Luke recognized the warning within and realized that another comment or objection would be met with severe consequences. Hiding the reluctant grimace behind the rim of the glass, Luke forced herself to take a long swallow. The taste seemed even sweeter now; the syrupy texture awkwardly thick on her tongue and that hidden flavor seemed to lap at her taste buds mockingly as she struggled to place it.

By the time the glass was nearly empty again her head began to swim and when Luke blinked it was a long and sluggish gesture. Understanding settled upon her, but Luke was powerless to put her concerns into words. She felt as if she were drowning, unable to use her limbs to save herself while Vader stood by the shore waiting expectantly for her head to sink beneath the waves.

“I see you have become quite close to your Lieutenant,” Vader observed. His vocals had suddenly taken on an almost watery tone in her ears and Luke wondered if her hearing was beginning to feel the impact of her drink.

“She is very… effective at her duties,” Luke said. The walls were beginning to waver and swirl in front of her eyes. She swallowed another mouthful of wine and found that the glass had seemingly refilled itself, the blue liquid now floating closer to the rim than it had just moments ago.

“Indeed. She does seem to be quite dutiful as well as talented.”

“I don’t…” Luke paused in order to place a hand to her lips as her throat constricted against the liquid that threatened to spill out. Her stomach felt like an aquarium and her ears were beginning to churn as she struggled to understand how she had lost track of her drink so suddenly. This should have only been her second or third glass, but the watery feeling in her belly said it was closer to her fifth. “I don’t think I grasp your meaning. She is a skilled solider.”

“Yes, skilled in many ways.”

A pressure found its way to her arm, an invisible pull that moved her hand towards the glass and forced her stiff fingers to grasp the stem. Luke felt her stomach lurching. She wasn’t sure how much she had been forced to drink, but she felt certain that one more would be too much. “I don’t…” she began, but once her mouth was opened the rim of the cup was brought to her lips and more inky blue wine was sliding down her throat.

“She has shared those skills with you before.” Despite the way her ears were churning, Luke could still make out the edge to Vader’s words. There was no question in his tone, only flat certainty as he continued to press. “She has used them on you.”

Luke glanced down at her glass watching the ripples play along the rim as the table began to ebb and flow in front of her eyes. Her lips felt coated with a thick layer of wax as her tongue seemed to slide around limply between her teeth.

“Father,” she found herself saying as water gathered in the corners of her eyes. The name had never fit well on her tongue, but in that moment the idea of pleading with Vader was preferable to swallowing more. “Please…”

She couldn’t find the strength in herself to turn her head in Vader’s direction, the muscles in her neck seeming to use every bit of strength just to stay upright. The wine glass found its way to her lips once more as her jaw pried open to allow more blue liquid to pass through. Yet this time instead of swallowing Luke actually found herself gagging, her throat constricting in protest as bile threatened to spill forth, but she held it in even as the wine dribbled down her neck and onto her jacket. The urge to expel more wine from her stomach was enough to cause her body to quake, but Luke resisted, knowing better than to so obviously disobey.

When her convulsions had settled she watched the wine glass hit the table with a pointed thud that caused her empty plate to stutter before her. She could see now that a bit of wine had made its way onto the table, spilling across dish and napkin alike and somehow that sight made her stomach roll even more. She raised a gloved hand to her mouth as her free arm wrapped tightly around her midsection. Bile pushed upward again, but she screwed her eyes shut and forced it back down only for a bit of saliva to slip from between her lips. Luke didn’t want to vomit, but her muscles were starting to feel as syrupy as her drink and the struggle against it was impossible to win.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor was her first indication that Vader had stood and when she opened her eyes she saw the blurred outline of his figure looming over her. Her body slumped back against the chair as Vader pressed a gloved hand to her shoulder and used a spare napkin to roughly wipe down her face. 

Luke coughed, not out of malice, but because she could still feel the waxy film on her tongue. She wanted food or water, something real to be inside her stomach, but when she felt a cup pressed to her lip she wasn’t surprised to find more inky wine filling her mouth.

Vader spoke again, but despite how close he was his words were like the tide beating against a rock. Whatever strength had been left in her muscles seemed to let go and turn into molasses as Luke felt her body grow slack against the stiff backed chair.

*

When Luke woke her mouth felt dry, as if someone had taken a sponge and removed all the moisture from between her lips. Her stomach was tight and empty as a stinging throb built behind her eyes, the pain carrying her out of her dreamless sleep and back towards consciousness.

She placed a gloved hand to her eyes, but the touch did nothing to ease the sting. The bile in her stomach lurched at the very thought of moving, but Luke knew she couldn’t stay still for long.

Slowly, she carefully pushed herself upward, shifting her legs gradually until her feet were back on the ground. Looking around was surprisingly difficult since her eyes felt dry as paper and her lids were like sand brushing over them when she blinked. 

Memory began to gradually return to her as she sat and tried to regain her strength. She could see that she was back in her own chambers, but her last memories were of being with Vader. He had forced her to take some strange drink that had done this to her, all while asking questions about…

Panic clasped her heart, the pain in her head temporarily forgotten as she climbed to her feet and scrambled towards the entrance of her suite. The door sliding open caught her off guard, yet the sight of an unfamiliar face waiting with her Stormtroopers was somehow less surprising. 

It was an Imperial Officer, a new one, male around her age with dark brown hair cropped close to the sides of his head and sharp features defining his face. His appearance was hauntingly familiar, but Luke didn’t have time to dwell on that.

The young officer snapped to attention and offered her a straight backed salute in greeting. “Good morning Grand Admiral. I hope you’re feeling well. You certainly look a great deal better.”

Luke was tempted to ask what he had been told happened to her or how long she had been out, but pushed the urge away. She knew the wine Vader had given her was laced with some sort of drug or poison and from the ache in her body it was clear that she had been out longer than a day. Those answers didn’t matter. Mara was what mattered.

“Where is Lt. Jade?” She asked, waving off the officer’s salute. “I wish to speak with her.”

For a moment the officer’s eyes flickered and Luke could feel the anxious tension coming off of him in waves. “I’m afraid Lt. Jade has been reassigned,” he said and from the way he spoke Luke got the feel that was what he had been told, yet even he didn’t seem to believe the story. “I’ll be your attendant now ma’am.”

Luke closed her eyes and attempted to search for Mara, but the pain in her head was overwhelming. It was hard enough for her to read this new Lieutenant and he wore his feeling out in the open. She could only assume the worst had happened.

“Where is Emperor Vader?” she demanded, forcing herself to keep a steady tone even as her emotions raged on inside of her. “I desire an audience with him.”

Again the officer stiffened in obvious discomfort at the question. Not that this was surprising. It would have been more alarming if he didn’t appear uneasy as most Imperials had a tendency to grow uncomfortable whenever Luke mentioned Vader. “I’m afraid he’s not here, ma’am. The Emperor had matters to attend to elsewhere.”

It wasn’t difficult to imagine the sort of “business” that had led to Vader being off world so suddenly. Already Luke could feel a wave of anger stirring within her, lapping at her insides and making her fingers grow tense with the need to crush something in her grasp. Luke knew that true solitude was an impossible thing to request as even when sealed in her chambers there was always someone waiting outside her door, listening and observing, but she needed to at least be away from this tiny room and the processed air she had been breathing for who knew how long. She wanted to feel the sun on her skin and have real air fill her lungs so she could hopefully find a way to center herself.

Luke muttered a few bitter words and took a step forward only to find that the young officer didn’t budge. 

“I’m sorry Admiral Skywalker, but I have been given strict orders from the Emperor himself not to allow you to leave until he returns.”

The anger and bitterness was like a stone weighing inside her as dark thoughts flashed through her mind. Suddenly it became impossible to think of anything except Mara even as her head continued to buzz and the emptiness in her stomach cried out for attention. 

She said nothing to him, didn’t even bother to look up when she dismissed him before pressing a panel on the wall to have the door slide shut. Stepping away from the entry, Luke waited until the familiar hiss signified to her that she was alone before allowing the tears to flow freely.

*

Luke wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed before she was able to compose herself again, but by the end of her fit she felt no better. Her head ached worse than before as she sat on her floor nursing sore eyes that were now swollen from tears.

Mara was gone, she was certain of that. She was now just another in a long list of names that had once belonged to beings she held dear, and Luke knew that it was her fault. She should have done more, could have done more, to make Mara leave before it was too late. The moment Mara had shown her Force sensitivity Luke knew that the future would be dangerous for her, but the desire to have a companion had made her selfish enough to believe that they could get away with their secret even as they hid themselves right beneath Vader’s watchful eye.

Aunt Beru. Uncle Owen. Ben. Leia. Han. Chewie. Threepio. Artoo. And now Mara.

All of them had been destroyed by Vader, all of them Luke had failed to save and now she was more alone than ever. 

Luke took in a small, trembling breath as she hugged her legs to her chest and rocked herself against the cold metal floor. She had lived this way for so long it was hard to remember what it was like to be alive, to be a real person with hopes and dreams for an actual future. Now she was nothing except what Vader wanted her to be.

No, that wasn’t quite true. She was something: she was a trinket, a toy that was cruelly broken and pieced back together again and again. Vader held on to her as a reminder of the man he had once been, as an illusion that he was still a person who was capable of love or being loved, but there was only death and pain wherever Vader went. 

_Why couldn’t you just kill me?_ Luke thought not for the first time as her eyes screwed together, too exhausted to create anymore tears. _Why can’t you just let me die? I don’t want to live this way anymore._

Once she had thought that her suffering would end after she and Vader had overthrown Palpatine, because surely that had been the Sith Lord’s ultimate goal, yet even after their act of regicide she had been kept at Vader’s side. She lingered and watched an empire fall and a new, darker future rise around her as day by day Vader grew colder and more powerful. Luke now understood that Vader’s ambition had not been to simply reshape the galaxy into a more appealing image, but Luke as well.

A knock came from the entryway and Luke knew that it was her new attendant. Anger bubbled inside her, burning away the sadness and despair that had been keeping her company for too long as she gathered herself and stood from the floor. She walked to the door once again and gazed warily up at the Imperial Officer as he stood before her.

His face struggled to maintain its composure as his eyes flickered from her reddened gaze to a spot just above her head. “I know it’s late, but I brought you your breakfast ma’am,” he ventured helpfully as Luke’s eyes dropped down to the tray held in his hands. She could smell the food within, her traitorous stomach responding to the scent even as she scowled bitterly at it. “I thought you might feel better with something to eat.”

“I would feel better with fresh air,” she said, pushing the idea into his mind, encouraging him to relent to the request. “You will allow me to leave this room.”

The Lieutenant frowned apologetically as his eyes glanced down at the domed plate in his hand. “I’m sorry ma’am. I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Luke glowered at that. It only seemed fitting that Vader would take care to have someone with _some_ will to be her new guard. Yet her Stormtroopers were another matter. She looked to the squad standing in a perfect row across the hall with their backs pressed against the wall. They snapped to attention at the sight of her gaze upon them and Luke knew that it would be a very simple matter to have them cave to her whim.

“This Lieutenant is disobeying my orders,” she told them, pushing the urgency into their minds without any effort at all. “He must be punished.”

She could see the growing confusion and alarm on the young officer’s face as her head Stormtrooper stepped forward, his gloved hand pressing into the Lieutenant’s padded shoulder and forcing him to turn around. “Admiral Skywalker gave you an order,” the Stormtrooper droned, his words coming out as a gruff echo from within his helmet. “You will pay for your disobedience.”

“Have you gone insane?” The Lieutenant gaped as he brushed the hand away from him. “I’m under orders by the _Emperor_!”

“He’s resisting you,” Luke urged. “He won’t listen to reason. You have to kill him!”

There was a pointed clatter that echoed through the hall as the tray slipped from the Lieutenant’s hand as he went for the blaster at his hip, but it was to no avail. Somewhere out in the distance there was another Luke who would have been appalled by her manipulations, that would cringe at the thought of forcing another to kill for her, but the Luke that stood back and watched as the Stormtrooper shot the Imperial Officer dead in his chest was too tired to care anymore. 

She grabbed the blaster from the Lieutenant’s still twitching hands and ordered two of the other Troopers to carry the body off and have him reported for insubordination and attacking a superior as the others escorted her down to the hangar bay where her TIE-Fighter was kept. Her lightsaber was nowhere to be found on the Lieutenant’s person, a clear sign that Vader had confiscated it before his departure. It was bothersome, but not a significant setback. Luke had survived without a saber before, she could do so again.

Luke and her Troopers boarded a lift and rode it down to the hanger bay in silence. Maintaining her hold on their will was surprisingly effortless and Luke distantly wondered why she had not pushed herself to escape before.

_It won’t be so easy,_ she thought to herself, her back already tensing as her fingers twitched with the desire to grasp the blaster at her hip. _It can’t be this easy._

Again she closed her eyes and tried to reach out, scanning her surroundings one last time for any sign of Jade’s presence, but there was nothing. The urge to spiral back into despair clawed at her, but Luke forced it down and far away. She needed to be free, even if for a moment she needed freedom.

The Force had alerted her to the danger even before the lift car came to a stuttering halt, doors parting to reveal Grand Moff Rothlott’s ghoulish visage surrounded by rows of armed Imperial Troopers. She glowered at the man and the smug grin he dared to sport as he regarded her coolly.

“Admiral Skywalker,” he greeted smugly. “So good to see you up and about again.”

“Is there cause for such a _warm_ celebration for my recovery, Rothlott?” she asked, indicating the Troopers standing behind the senior officer. 

Rothlott responded with a chortle that seemed to be drinking in every ounce of pleasure this moment offered. “Dear child, did you really think we would not be prepared for you to flee so suddenly? The Emperor thought that confinement to your chambers would be suitable, but when your fellow conspirator was discovered I knew that more severe measures would be necessary.”

Despite her best efforts Luke found her breath catching at the Grand Moff’s words. So Mara was a Rebel spy. Or at least Rothlott and the others had believed her to be one. Not that it mattered. That information didn’t change anything. It only added evidence to what Luke had already suspected.

“What now, Rothlott?” she asked, offering the man a weary smirk to match her disinterested tone. “Am I to be court marshaled?”

Again the old man laughed, his head nearly falling back in an exaggerated gesture as one of his men stepped forward and grasped her arm in restraint. “Court marshaled? You give yourself too much credit. A traitorous rebel such as yourself isn’t worthy of a proper trail. You are to be executed, put down like the vile beast you are.”

Her hands jerked back as one of the guards made to shackle her hands. Notes of panic began to flutter inside her at the sea of stony faces surround her. Escape would not be an effortless feat afterall.

“The Emperor,” she began, but Rothlott seemed to be prepared for that comment. 

“Given the evidence against you with this recent escape attempt, not to mention the very recent _murder_ of your attendant, the Emperor will have no choice but to acknowledge that you were nothing more than the turncoat we all knew you to be.”

The trooper made to shackle her again, but this time Luke summoned up the Force and pushed him away, the shackles clattering to the ground as the man’s body slid across the smooth ground and slammed harshly against the far wall. Rothlott’s eyes widened, his withered lips pressing themselves into an even tighter line as he stepped back and allowed his men to advance, but Luke stopped them in their tracks. Holding over a dozen men in place was a bit of a strain given the pain she was still nursing in her head and the task of forcing her Troopers to raise their arms against them slightly more so as even she felt the reluctance inside their minds, but it was worth it to see the look of quiet horror in the Grand Moff’s glassy eyes.

“Despite what you may believe, killing you gives me no pleasure, old man,” she told him somberly, “but you stand between me and my freedom. I cannot allow you to live.”


	3. Across the Stars

The Lars farm looked eerily similar to the last time she had laid eyes upon it. She was surprised to see that the moisture farm was still abandoned given that all the equipment seemed to be in working condition, but Luke suspected that the neighbors had all scared prospective buyers away with tales of Stormtroopers coming in the dead of night to rip their families from their beds and burn them alive as punishment for perceived crimes against the Empire. Surely the homestead’s condition did nothing to disprove those rumors. The scorch marks from where Owen and Beru’s bodies had been burned still lingered on the exterior walls along with the rest of the obvious fire damage and Luke felt her stomach clench to behold the sight. 

Inside the farm was like a museum of her past, one that had fallen into disrepair. Everything was frozen in time, and appeared just the way it had the day she had left Tatooine with Ben. Except it that it wasn’t, not truly because in addition to the singed furniture and walls the little food that remained had spoiled years ago and was left to sustain generations of vermin while the air grew stale with the scent of mildew and dust. Luke cleared away the worst of the mess and wandered back to her old room. 

Her room was remarkably well preserved, more smoke damaged than actually charred and most of her old belongings (toys, clothes, bedding) were relatively intact beneath the layers of ash and dust. Luke sat down on her bed, the mattress stiff and creaking from age beneath her weight, but feeling like a nest of feathers compared to the bare cot she had been forced to sleep on for years. 

Returning to Tatooine was a mistake; she had known that before even entering the planet’s orbit, but she couldn’t stop herself from heading there after the disappointment back at Dagobah. She had returned to the system foolishly expecting to find Master Yoda in the hopes of continuing her training, but the swamp was empty, the tiny home where the ancient Jedi dwelled abandoned without a trace of life and Luke was easily able to piece the answers together. 

Now there was only Tatooine, the most obvious place that Luke would return to and no doubt high on the Emperor’s list of places to search for the Grand Admiral turned defector, but she needed to be here too. She didn’t know how long this freedom would last, but whatever time she had Luke swore she would make the most of it.

Lying back on her bed she could already feel the dust filling her lungs as her head hit the rock hard pillow beneath her. _Han,_ she thought sadly as she watched the sun pour in from the cinder coated window pane and illuminate the particles of dirt drifting through the air.

Jabba the Hutt was gone. He too had become a casualty of the Empire some years ago. His gang was fragmented, fractured and warring amongst themselves for control of this barren desert while his assets were sold off and scattered across the stars. She had picked up Han’s trail far too late and now it was already ice cold.

_You escaped. You’re free. Do something._ she told herself again and again, because this was a treasured opportunity. Any day now the Imperial armies would pick-up her trail and take her back to Vader where she would either be executed at his hand or “forgiven” in exchange for another round of retraining. 

Uncle Owen. Aunt Beru. 

Luke closed her eyes and imagined that she could hear their voices filling the now empty halls. She imagined herself sitting down to one final dinner with her family, Aunt Beru fussing over the way her hair was starting to look unkempt and ragged in the braids Luke had sloppily fashioned for herself while Uncle Owen grumpily reminded Luke of the impending harvest. The old Luke would sulk and pout, rolling her eyes like the spoiled teenager she now knew she had been, but this new tired Luke would have held her aunt and uncle in her arms and begged them to forgive her for everything she had put them through.

Luke took a breath; the task made difficult thanks in no small part to the thickness hanging in the air, and held it in her lungs until her chest began to ache.

It would be easy to just end things here, to die in the bed where all the dreams had started before time had turned them into bitter nightmares. Her stolen blaster rested on her hip, charged and ready to be fired. It would only take one well-placed blast to end the nightmares and to give the final act of defiance to Vader, but even now as loneliness and death surrounded her, the thought of dying in such a cowardly fashion didn’t sit well with her.

_Not yet,_ she told herself as stale air sat in her lungs. _Not yet._

*

Wedge Antilles had hid himself on a nameless planet on the far end of the galaxy. It was a neutral zone, free of Imperial oversight and the perfect place for a former Rebel pilot to hide himself. Luke had found her way to him by chance, listening to stray rumors and deciphering the bits of truth within them. Yet as she sat across from him in the dim lights of the cantina she knew that his willingness to meet with her was nothing short of a miracle. 

“You’re taking a risk being here,” Wedge told her conspiringly. The neon lights shining from behind the bar illuminated his face and the troubled frown he had been sporting from the moment their eyes had met. “I hear you’re a wanted fugitive now.”

“That makes two of us,” Luke whispered back as she forced herself to eat with some level of care instead of cramming the food into her mouth as hastily as possible. She hadn’t had a bite to eat in days, hiding from the Empire not offering her much opportunity for rest or nourishment. “But I hear this planet is free from the Empire’s grasp.”

Wedge’s frown deepened as he gave his head a slow sad shake. “That may be, but if someone were to recognize you as an Imperial it could still be trouble. There’s a lot of bad blood for the Empire around here.”

“You don’t say,” Luke muttered, her eyes flickering across the room to a woman seated at the bar. The woman’s eyes had been drifting in their direction periodically, but Luke was certain that she hadn’t been recognized just yet. Still she found her hand tugging at the fabric of her hood, drawing it closer around her face. Luke had been careful to cover her tracks since her initial escape. She had set fire to her old uniform back on Dagobah and had taken up the habit of swapping ships every now and again, yet Luke suspected even that wouldn’t be enough. The Empire had placed a large bounty on her head and neutral or not, anyone looking to make a lot of easy money would send word of her sighting in a heartbeat. “I won’t be staying long. I just came to pass along some information.”

Wedge’s face was hesitant yet intrigued as he leaned ever so slightly towards her. Luke took a quick gulp of her drink before setting down her cup in order to offer Wedge her full attention.

“A spy was found by the Empire a few days ago,” Luke told him. “She was suspected to be part of the Rebellion.”

The air seemed to tighten as Wedge’s shoulders sagged and his eyes drifted down towards the table. He let out a quiet breath through his nose and rested an elbow onto the table top. “Wasn’t us,” he breathed. 

Luke felt herself recoil slightly at his response. Her stomach ached and seemed to fold in on itself, the food she had just eaten not sitting well and feeling too bulky inside of her. “Are you sure?” she whispered, wondering if Wedge may be playing dumb out of fear that someone was listening. “Her name was Mara. Mara Jade?” 

Wedge shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar,” he sighed. “The Rebellion’s fragmented at best, our numbers are way too small to pull off something like that. Whoever that was, it wasn’t one of us.”

Keeping her emotions in check was surprisingly difficult as Luke sat in the cantina and felt the weight of disappointment settle on her chest. Whatever appetite she still had evaporated at the knowledge that she couldn’t even pass along the news of Mara’s death, that the lingering hope of the Rebellion’s resurgence was already dead, that there were no more Jedi, and Han was beyond her reach. 

She looked up in time to see another pair of eyes look her way, a male twi’lek who looked her over before turning his attention back to his companion in order to whisper something between them. The need to leave moved through her and Luke took a moment to adjust her cloak before she made to stand.

“I should be going,” she announced as a means of explanation. “I’ve caused enough trouble for you.”

“Wait a minute,” Wedge began. He made to reach out for her, but his hand stopped short before withdrawing. The gesture was enough to make Luke pause and see the uncertainty in his eyes. A moment ago Wedge had wanted her gone, but suddenly he seemed reluctant to part ways. “We didn’t think it was you,” he confessed. The words were low and carried by a heavy breath as Wedge’s fingers clenched and rubbed together. “There wasn’t one of us who doubted you for a second. Even when word spread that you were Imperial and they were rounding us up by the dozens we knew it had to be… something. Something serious that would make you…”

_But it was me Wedge. It was all me. All my fault._ The words clawed at her throat, because Luke knew that it was only with the information Vader had pried from her that the Rebellion had been crushed so thoroughly, yet hearing those words from Wedge Antilles meant more than she could ever say.

“Thank you,” she whispered, the words coming out thickly from her throat. 

Something shined in Wedge’s eyes, a tired sort of sadness that she felt deep in her own bones. She could tell that he had been holding on to that for some time; that he had waited for the opportunity to say this to her for years and now that the moment had arrived he was disappointed to find that there was no comfort in the act. “You don’t really have to leave, you know? I know what I said before, but… this place is free from the Empire’s eye. You could stay here, Lucy. Be free. Stop running.”

Luke laughed at that, the sound unexpected and almost painful coming from her pinched throat, but the old nickname had caught her off guard. The old Rogue Squadron members had given it to her, because “Luke” was no name for a pretty little girl and they had all agreed that “Lucy” fit her much better. Luke smiled quietly to herself, a warmth she hadn’t felt in years gathering inside of her. Even if she knew that Wedge had likely chosen to call her that because it was safer than saying “Luke” or “Skywalker” in their current surroundings, she took what joy she could from hearing it again. 

“I think we both know better than to trust the Empire to keep their word,” Luke sighed as she stood suddenly. “I appreciate you taking the time to see me. Thank you Wedge and… I’m sorry. For everything.”

*

The cold began to sink in as Luke watched the stars slowly drift by from the other side of the glass. Her fuel was running low and in that moment she wasn’t certain where she had wandered to. The next occupied planet could be near or light years away for all she knew, but she couldn’t see how it mattered. 

Like with her previous adventures this new found freedom wasn’t turning out quite how she had expected. There was no home to be found out amongst the stars, no friends that she could turn to, and no hope in sight. Her funds were almost depleted and all the things she had hoped to achieve only brought her more pain and loneliness from their inevitable failures. 

Luke watched the puffs of breath escaping her come out like tiny clouds into the small cockpit. Her stomach felt empty, her head was light, and her mouth tasted painfully stale as the blaster hung from her hip, the weight a constant reminder of its presence.

Uncle Owen. Aunt Beru. Ben. Leia. Han. Chewie. Threepio. Artoo. Mara. Yoda.

There was nothing to be done for them, any of them. They were all gone and as she sat drifting aimlessly in the cold void she could not find the strength to go any further. 

From where she sat Luke saw only three options before her. She could return to Vader and be put to death. Or she could return to Vader, beg for forgiveness and hope that he would grant her mercy. Or she could put an end to it all right now. She reached a gloved hand down and grasped the blaster she had stolen from the dead Lieutenant, feeling its comforting bulk in her palm. There was still a charge, not that she would need much. The thought of killing herself by her own hand seemed somewhat better than allowing herself to die beneath Vader’s heel. Perhaps if she ended it all the others would find peace, they would rest easier knowing that she too was gone now.

Luke closed her eyes and thought of Tatooine, thought of her true home. She remembered the warm sand beneath her feet, the hot wind that scolded her skin, and the intense rays of the twin suns beating against her skin. 

She imagined Hoth and its biting chill. She recalled wandering into Leia’s chambers, gathering the blankets and making a show of burying herself beneath the furs. 

She thought of Dagobah, the swamp’s pungent smell that clung to her clothes and the warm soggy feeling of the bog sticking to her skin. 

She thought of all the places that she had been and would never see again and felt at peace, because soon there would be no more pain, only rest.

Mara. Han. Leia. Chewie. Threepio. Artoo. Ben. Yoda. Uncle Owen. Aunt Beru.

Luke lifted the blaster and rested the barrel against her temple. It was the only thing in the cabin that didn’t feel cold.

_“Lucia.”_

A startled gasp escaped her lips as her fingers trembled before going slack with sudden shock. She distantly heard the blaster clatter to the metal floor beneath her feet as her heart began thrumming in her chest. She looked around, peering beyond the thick panes to see if there were any signs of Star Destroys or TIE ships nearby, but there was nothing to be seen except distant stars.

The voice had come so sudden, piecing through the gloom that had clouded her mind, that for a moment she had misplaced it. Yet when she calmed her breathing and steadied her mind, Luke recognized the gentle tone that belonged to a voice she had not heard in years.

“Ben,” she gasped, trembling at the very idea that the old Jedi Master was reaching out to her now of all times. She leaned back and closed her eyes. It had been so long since she had last searched for Ben’s presence. Luke had thought for certain that his spirit had moved on, that she had slipped too far from the light for contact to be made, but maybe…

“Ben?” she said again, reaching out across the stars and through the cold that surrounded her. “Is that really you?”

She felt a light piecing through the darkness, a shapeless light attached to a presence she had not expected to ever feel again. _“I’m here Lucia.”_

Tears sprang to her eyes and suddenly Luke felt not only tired, but small. “Ben… It’s been so long.”

For a moment her old master was quiet and if it weren’t for the lingering presence of his light, she would have thought he had withdrawn. _“You were a prisoner of the darkness for so long… I could not reach you young one.”_

“I’m sorry Ben,” she whispered as the tears trailed down her cheeks. Her lips were cracked and her mouth was so dry that speaking was painful, but she needed to go on. It had been days since she had last spoken to anyone and even a ghost was better company than silence. “I shouldn’t have gone. You and Master Yoda warned me, but… I didn’t listen.”

Again Ben was silent, but his light began to gather shape in her mind and Luke could almost see the sad, regretful face of Obi-Wan Kenobi. _“Indeed it was unfortunate. Neither of us could have predicted Vader’s cruelty. To torture you so…”_

“I’m not a Jedi anymore, Ben. I’m a Sith now and I’m so tired. Everything hurts. Living hurts.” Luke felt her body grow heavy as it sagged against the pilot chair. She shivered and grasped the ends of her cloak, wrapping it around herself like a blanket as her tears began to blur the stars. “I want it to stop. I don’t want to live with this pain anymore.”

Light the shape of a hand pressed to her shoulder and Luke swore she could actually feel the heat of its gentle touch. _“There is still hope. You have not strayed too far from the light. You can complete what you started.”_

“To what end? To kill Vader?” She sighed and shook her head as best as she could. The oxygen levels in the cabin were getting lower. In seemingly no time she wouldn’t even need the blaster. “I want him dead more than anything, but he’s too strong, even stronger than when I first fought him. I could never win.”

The light seemed to shift, to move from Luke’s shoulder down to her hand and wrapping her fingers in its comfort until sensation returned to the numb digits. _“The weight of duty is never an easy thing to bear, especially for the young. There were younger padawan than you in the time before. I suppose that’s why we expected so much. It was wrong of us to ask you to do something so difficult, to set you down on this path with only half truths. Even we were not ready.”_

“I wish…” Luke began sadly, but found her throat constricting around the words. She blinked and used her free hand to wipe the tears from her eyes before forcing herself on. “I wish I could be what you wanted me to be. I wish I could have been the savior the galaxy needed instead of the twisted thing that I’ve become. Somehow I made everything worse than how it started. There’s nothing left to fight for. When I’m gone… maybe it won’t be better, but things won’t get worse.”

Obi-Wan seemed to sigh, the sound both weary and disheartened and Luke wished that he would just stay quietly with her until she drew her last breath. In that moment it was all she wanted.

_“The galaxy is a vast place, Lucia. One could find anything here. Even hope.”_

“Master, no more riddles,” Luke lamented, but the words had barely escaped her before the warning lights began to flood within the cockpit and the hull of her ship was hit with a dull thud. 

Luke felt her body jerk against the strap holding her in place as she twisted around to see that she had been snagged by another cruiser. It was small with red and yellow marking, but far too small and rundown to be an Imperial vessel. 

The radio crackled and buzzed to life as a new frequency slipped through her channel. “Your light support systems are failing and your vehicle is occupying a no fly zone,” the odd voice called to her from within the speaker. “You will now be towed at your own expense.”

*

“This is ridiculous! You can’t charge me for a tow I didn’t ask for!”

The mechanic didn’t bother to raise his eyes from the HoloNet program he had been watching. He only hummed and rubbed the stubble on his chin as Luke continued to pace angrily in front of him. “Your life support systems were failing,” he droned distantly. 

“I was fine!” she insisted irritably. “I didn’t radio for aid and my emergency beacons were turned off! Your _droid_ winched my ship without my permission.”

Again he offered her no real acknowledgement as the images in front of him shifted, the colors vibrant yet surprisingly muted in the dim room. The whole room smelled like engine oil and grease and the air was so hot and thick that Luke was almost tempted to peel off her cloak to seek some relief. “You were in a no fly zone.”

“Where? Where on _any_ star chart does it say that?”

This time the mechanic did look up at her, his eyes distant and filled with boredom as he offered her a look that clearly said he had better things to do than argue with Luke for another nanosecond. “Ma’am, I’ll tell you what I tell every other sentient being that ends up here: your ship has been impounded and it will stay impounded until you pay the fee.”

“This is ridiculous,” Luke huffed. “This whole operation is a scam. I _won’t_ pay this fine!”

“Then you _won’t_ get your ship back.”

Luke gave an annoyed grunt and stomped away, deciding she had done enough to convey her frustrations. In truth, she didn’t care about the ship. It was time that she changed it for a new one anyway, but to react mildly to falling into an obvious scam such as the one the mechanic and his droid had arranged would be more suspicious than having a stolen vehicle impounded on a foreign planet. At least the droid had given her enough time to gather her supplies and hide her blaster before taking her back to the repair shop.

Kicking the shop door open out of spite, she was relieved to step out into the open air and breathe something other than exhaust. Not that the air outside the junkyard offered much relief. Luke wasn’t certain what planet she had been taken to, but it seemed to be a desert world occupied by shifty eyed merchants and scrappers more keen on collecting goods than selling them. She sighed and adjusted the fabric of her cloak around her until it was resting in a more comfortable manner that would better obscure her face.

She needed to figure out a way to get off this planet. Every second she spent here was another second the Empire had to track her down. She wasn’t sure if this world had any Imperial occupation or if there were ports large enough for her to sneak aboard a ship unnoticed, but she couldn’t take any chances.

A gust of wind swelled up around her, kicking up sand and blasting hot air across her skin. At least the desert climate was familiar, but she wished she had worn lighter colors to ward off a bit more heat and help her blend in. 

Her feet came to a stumbling halt as a sensation struck her. A presence reached her, one she hadn’t felt in ages, which she had given up on finding ever again, but it was here. Heat rushed upon her, a type of warmth that was different from the dry air or the baked sand, as she looked about frantically searching. 

Her eyes flickered back and forth rapidly, straining as she searched the faces of every being that passed for any sign of something familiar. It was only when the sound of glass shattering reached her ears that Luke found herself pausing long enough to focus.

She saw a man, human with shaggy, unkempt brown hair and a beard growing in thick, uneven clumps around his face, bending over to collect a cluster of fallen objects. His hands scrambled about the ground in odd directions, taking care to stop and pat items carefully before gathering them into the bin that had been tipped over. He worked slowly, deliberately, but the air of frustration from his own pace was clear.

“No, not like that!” another being croaked at him. He was large, yet squatty with frog like features. His movements were slow and lumbering as he came to stand over the bent man. “You see what happens when you move too quickly? You have to be careful or you’ll just make things worse.”

The human grumbled an insincere “sorry” into the ground as he continued to gather the bits of scrap metal that he could find. The larger being didn’t bother to help him, only regarded the man for another moment before giving out a disappointed huff and marching off.

For a moment, Luke couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe or think or do more than stare, because this couldn’t be real. She had been out across the stars searching and wandering for so long, that it couldn’t be so easy, so random that she would find herself here in this unknown place staring at a man she had days ago given up for dead.

Luke walked to him, slow and deliberate as her booted feet seemed to struggle against their own weight. She was standing above him, her shadow cast over his bent figure, but he didn’t acknowledge her. His smell was pungent, the rags unwashed and falling apart as they clung to his body, but Luke ignored it all as she lowered herself to the ground to get a better look at him.

“Han?” she whispered. The name felt strange on her tongue, heavy from lack of use, but so good to hear again. “Han Solo?”

The hands that had been groping around the ground stilled as the man’s body went ridged. He lifted his head to her and Luke felt her heart sink at the sight of the milky white eyes that looked back at her. “Luke?” he whispered back, the words escaping from between chapped lips as if that was one word he never thought to hear himself say again. “Is that you?”

Her knees landed on something sharp and broken as she fell to the ground, but the biting pain was nothing compared to the utter relief and joy that filled her when she wrapped her arms around Han Solo and drew him close. He didn’t look the same. He was tired and sun burnt and his body felt far too thin, but he was real and solid in her arms.

“Han,” she breathed, enjoying the word far more than she had any right to. “Oh Han! It’s you. It’s really you!”

“Luke? Kid... wh-what are you..?”

“It’s okay,” she promised him. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

She felt the other being return before he could even speak, but Luke was too lost in joy to really care. “Oh no you don’t,” he croaked from above them. “That one’s mine. I paid good money for him.”

Luke frowned as she felt Han begin to withdraw, his spirit wounded at the words, but Luke offered his fingers a quick squeeze as she stood and turned to face the other. He was taller than her and his features seemed softer than she had expected when looking up close, but the sour look never wavered from his gaze even as she stared calmly back at him. “I’ll give you more,” told him, pushing the thought into him and feeling his will shift in response. “I can give you double whatever you paid.”


	4. The Pledge

Luke spent what little money she had left on a meal for Han. It wasn’t much, just a loaf of spongy bread and soup that was mostly broth, but Han ate like a man starved. She watched him devour his food with quiet pleasure, the emptiness in her own stomach seeming to fill just by witnessing Han eat.

“How did you get here?” Luke asked when Han had finished most of his bread. “The last I heard, Jabba was-”

“Killed by the Empire?” Han finished, a bitter laugh forming around the bits of food still pouched in his cheeks. “Yeah, I heard that too. Apparently the Emperor got tired of him. Some new anti-crime regulation or whatever they called it. But when his crew was wiped his assets were sold. Somehow I ended up here on this dirt hole with Unkar. He must have figured the giant slab of carbonite was man-shaped for a reason and melted me down.” Han grew quiet, his demeanor turning somber as he took a moment to swallow the rest of his chewed food. “By then the carbon sickness had set in and without treatment… my eyes went.”

Luke found herself reaching for him, her fingers twitching with the urge to touch, but she held back. Instead she satisfied herself by studying the planes of his face. There were thick bags beneath his eyes now and under the scruffy hairs of his beard it was clear that his cheeks had gone hallow. Her heart panged with regret that she hadn’t tried to come for him sooner. If only she had been stronger she could have made her escape years ago and found Han before it was too late.

“Hey,” Han cut in, his words startling her more than Luke would like to admit. “I may be blind, but I can tell you’re not eating.”

She smiled at him. “I’m not hungry.”

“Bull,” he huffed as he pushed the last remaining bits of bread over in her direction. “Eat kid. Not gonna let you sit there and starve just so I can get a free meal.”

She laughed, but it was clear from the way Han sat expectantly with his mouth drawn into a tight line that he wanted to hear her chewing. She shook her head and took the offered bread, eating it slowly to savor the bit of nourishment. It was just as unpleasant in texture as it appeared, but it was the first thing she’d had in days and she enjoyed the gritty feeling on her tongue more than she would in normal situations.

“Back on Bespin,” Han began slowly, “Vader… he was setting a trap for you. What happened?”

Suddenly the bread began to feel far too much like ash on her tongue and Luke found her stomach filling with a hard, cold sensation that warded off the rest of her appetite. “Things… didn’t go how I wanted.”

Han nodded, seeming to understand as he rubbed calloused hands against the rough fabric of his pants. “Don’t wanna talk about it?” he ventured. “That’s fine. We don’t need to yet.”

The thought of lying to Han didn’t sit well in her stomach, but Luke had to admit that being released from the obligation of recalling the whole story was a relief. “I don’t own you, you know,” she said, referring to the bill of sale she had manipulated Unkar into giving her. Somewhere he was still convinced that he had made a fortune by selling a blind man to a strange young woman, and Luke hoped that illusion would stay with him for a good long time. “Those papers mean nothing. You’re free. You can go wherever you please.”

A quiet huff was her answer as Han’s hands moved from his own leg over to Luke’s side where he clumsily searched for her hand. She was embarrassed that he had grasped her artificial limb, but Han didn’t seem to notice as he wrapped his large fingers around her synthetic palm. “Yeah right kid. You’re not getting rid of me so easy.”

*

Just like on Tatooine, the nights on this planet were brutally cold, yet Luke had managed to find them shelter to wait for sunrise. The room they had rented was little more than a closet, but its bare surroundings were fine for her and Han since both of them had dealt with worse in recent years. 

Han slept like the dead the second his head hit the crumbly old pillow on the stiff mattress, it was a heavy sleep that came after years of misery had finally come to an end, and Luke was happy to know that she had given him that much. Yet she refused to close her eyes, choosing instead to stand watch over him. In a day’s time her stolen ship had been towed and impounded and she had stolen a man from his owner. It was too much activity for an Imperial fugitive and Luke knew her luck was starting to run thin.

By morning light Han was up, more out of habit than anything else, and his eyes seemed to hold something bitter in them when she offered him a pleasant “Good morning.”

“You didn’t sleep,” he concluded knowingly and Luke had to marvel at him. They had been apart for years, yet Han seemed content to pick-up things up right where they had left off as if no time had passed at all. He huffed and sat up stiffly before sliding off the mattress. “Get in bed.”

“You’re kidding me,” she sighed with a roll of her eyes. “I didn’t travel light years across the galaxy to take orders from you, General Solo.”

“No, you didn’t,” he relented, “but after what you did, the least I can do is keep watch while you get some rest. We’ll figure things out after you have a few hours of shut eye.” 

Luke stared at Han for a moment, searching his face and finding only sincerity in his vacant eyes. She didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve Han’s care or forgiveness, but in that moment she didn’t want to fight or push, because rest did sound appealing.

She lay down on the bed as Han had suggested and found that it was more comfortable than she had anticipated. Luke had barely managed to find a comfortable position to rest her head when the sound of Han’s soft snores greeted her ears. She smiled quietly to herself and allowed her eyes to slip shut, just for a moment. 

She didn’t sleep, but her mind began to drift, spiraling down into pleasant nothingness as she listened to the wind beating against the dry walls and Han’s steady breathing. It was a calm she hadn’t felt in a long time, but she forced herself to keep her guard squarely in place.

Darkness began to settle around her, an unexpected chill brushing her senses as a pain similar to the scrape of a dull knife slid against the walls she had built around herself.

_“Lucia.”_

Luke felt her body sag and grow tense all at once at the voice that had become too familiar. Vader wasn’t near, that much she knew, but just as she had suspected her reckless behavior had lead him straight to her.

_“Lucia. Hear me.”_

_“I hear.”_ she sent back to him, because there was no denying that she had been found. She sighed and closed her eyes, reaching out to meet Vader’s presence. _“I won’t return. I can’t.”_

_“You must.”_

_“So I can die by your hands?”_ Anger flared up in her, but she forced herself to remain still and calm. _“I’m a traitor, a defector. I’ll be tried and executed if I’m lucky.”_

Silence lingered in the air for a moment, but Luke knew better than to think that Vader had withdrawn. Instead she grew colder, found herself shivering as a pressure seemed to cover her body like a lead blanket as she curled into herself. _“Your crimes will be forgiven, your record expunged. No one will question you.”_

_“Your council will have something to say against that.”_

_“Councilors can be replaced. The law is what I make of it.”_

Luke sighed and rubbed her hands together, feeling the chill a bit too deeply. It was just the sort of thing she would expect to hear from a fascist tyrant, but somehow the flawed logic only made her wearier. _“What do I matter? What does any of this matter? You have what you wanted, we did what you desired, so why keep me around?”_

_“You still do not understand,”_ he practically lamented, and Luke could feel that the words were heavy and disappointed even from the great distance between. _“There is more to be done, more to obtain. The Force brought us together, guided us back from a sea of treachery and lies to take what was meant to be ours. Find a world and bend it to your will. See the stars and shape them to your desire._ That _is power._ That _is order! That is the destiny that we share, you and I.”_

_“I never wanted those things. Power? Control? It was never who I was. I wanted adventure, true, but adventure is the dream of a child that turns bitter in the daylight. Now… I only want rest.”_

The silence was heavy, calculating, and for one fleeting moment Luke wondered if she had struck a chord in Vader. _“You may have your rest when you return,”_ he offered, speaking the words as if they could be a promise. _“You will be free for a time when you regain my trust. Lucia. This world I created, it was made for you. In time you will take my place and shape the galaxy as you see fit. Return to me and find forgiveness, stay away and I shall bathe the stars in fire and blood until you are by my side again.”_

The darkness receded from her mind, but the chill remained in her bones even as the sun crept higher into the sky, its light spilling into the room from between the part in the tattered curtains. Luke found herself shivering, her whole body feeling uneasy as she lay there quivering and scrambling to get a hold on her own thoughts. 

*

When Han woke again it was near mid-afternoon and Luke decided to set him down and tell him the whole truth. After her conversation with Vader the idea of keeping anything from Han felt wrong, but that didn’t make confessing all that had happened any easier. She told him about Chewie and the others, about how the Rebellion was now just a distant memory, and her part in it all.

Han was quiet through the whole account, never interjecting or speaking up and already Luke knew it was a bad sign. When she had finished her tale Han remained silent, his whole posture tense as his vacant eyes seemed to study his own hands with an odd intensity. Luke was able to feel the churning emotions within him – sadness, anger, defeat, regret – even as his face remained an impassive mask. 

After a long stretch of pointed silence, Luke began to understand that it was Han’s way of telling her that he wanted space and left him to his thoughts.

*

Finding passage off of Jakku was harder than Luke had expected. The planet seemed to be a graveyard for ships; the only vessels occupying the desert world’s surface seemed to be remnants of old Rebellion starships or crafts rusted beyond hope of repair. Obtaining any sort of ship for herself was therefore out of the question and regaining her impounded craft would involve questions that she wasn’t able to answer.

Eventually after hours of searching she had found transportation in the form of a freighter that was set to depart on the next sunrise. The ship’s captain told her that she should be grateful, as there wouldn’t be another ship going in or out of Jakku for months, and from the remote nature of the planet she was inclined to believe him. 

Yet finding a way off world had solved one small problem, but there were more to consider. Vader’s contact meant that it was only a matter of time before he would come for her, likely not himself but in some fashion and very soon. Leaving Jakku would be the safest thing for the few inhabitants on the rural planet, but where to go from there was a problem as well because no matter where she went Vader and his Imperial Forces would be close behind.

The option of death still lay before her, although that had become a less appealing path as of late. Ending things now would mean that she wouldn’t have to risk recapture, execution, or torture, but Luke had to assume that Vader was telling the truth when he had threatened to take out his anger on the galaxy if she should fail to return. If he were willing to react so viciously while she still lived and breathed then Luke could only imagine that his wrath would be far worse if she were to turn up dead.

In that same vine if she were to return to the Emperor Vader’s side, then there was still a chance for her to do some good. Despite their relation, Luke had never imagined that she would be Vader’s heir, because the dark lord had never told anyone of their blood connection. Yet if he spoke the truth then upon his death Luke would rule the galaxy and as Empress there was the chance she could shift the laws into something far more favorable.

_And then what? Become a tyrant?_ she thought bitterly. She had told Vader the truth when she said that obtaining power had never been her ambition and even with the knowledge that she could use that power for good a part of her still recoiled.

And lastly there was Han. Finding Han had been an unexpected blessing, but it complicated things. She had gotten his freedom, but that wasn’t enough, not after everything she had done to him. And now that Han knew the truth, there wasn’t a single doubt in Luke’s mind that he wanted nothing to do with her, which meant that they would have to part ways, but she could not allow that to happen without first ensuring Han’s safety. 

Overhead the sun was beating down on the dirt and sand with its harsh rays, baking all those who walked along the surface, but Luke found her mind drifting towards somewhere cold and far away. 

She recalled the last time she had seen Han, back in the hanger bay of the Rebel base on Hoth. Leia had told Luke about Han’s impending departure the night before while Luke was still stuck in medical bay recovering. Her mind had been a nest of twisted up thoughts, because she had already decided to depart herself yet somehow knowing that Han would be leaving the Rebellion behind made her feel as if a small wound had opened in the place where she had allowed him into her heart. 

It was stupid and hypocritical, but Luke remembered so clearly being angry at Han that day, looking at him with hurt and quiet anger in her eyes when he had called her over to share a brief goodbye. “You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone,” he had teased, his large hand tucking her chin and brushing against the small cut that had just begun to heal. Closing her eyes she could still feel the warmth of his rough fingers on her face as his brows waggled in a manner that was nearly as playful as his ever present smirk. “Won’t be anyone around to keep you outta trouble, so you’ll have to look after yourself kid.”

Luke remembered quite clearly the way she had rolled her eyes and stepped away from his touch, making a show of adjusting her flight suit instead of meeting his gaze. “I’ll manage,” she had huffed. Luke now wished she had taken the time to truly drink in his gaze, to look deeply into his warm, deep brown eyes and remember the mischief and spark that was always there.

Somewhere across another sea of stars there was a different Luke who had rescued Han from Jabba the Hutt and didn’t have to be content to just dream of seeing that spark again. That Luke would have defeated Vader in their first encounter or at least found a way to survive and maybe the parallel Han would be with Chewbacca flying in the cockpit of his beloved Millennium Falcon and going on daring adventures like old times.

A hot wind passed over her and Luke was reminded that she wasn’t on Hoth or a different shore. She was stuck here on Jakku in a world where the Millennium Falcon had been torn apart and sold for scraps while her Han Solo sat as a broken shell of his former self, hating her with every fiber of his being.

“I could really use some guidance right now, Ben,” she whispered to the dirt and sand beneath her feet and yet no answer came. There was no light or warmth to be found other than that provided by the intensity of the sky above and Luke was disappointed, but not surprised. 

As always, she was on her own.

*

Han was still giving her the silent treatment when she had returned to the room, but that was fine as Luke had expected it. She brought him more food, which he reluctantly ate, and plowed on ahead with her plans. 

“I’m leaving Jakku at first light tomorrow,” she told him, the words causing his jaw to still and halt his thoughtful chewing. “I found a ship that will take me off world.”

Han frowned as if considering whether or not to speak, but after some thought he asked “where to?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she answered instantly. “It’s best that you don’t know in case anyone questions you. But before I go I wanted to know if there’s anyone I should contact, a friend or a relation somewhere that could possibly come collect you.”

His frown deepened and the sunken hallows of his cheeks turned a touch red beneath the bristles of his beard as he lifted his head and scowled in Luke’s general direction. “Don’t you think if there was I would’ve asked you to get them? You think there’s anyone out there that I want _seeing me_ like this?”

Luke nodded only to herself, taking in Han’s anger with patience and calm as she redirected her tactics. “It’ll be dangerous for you to stay here after I’m gone. I don’t want to risk you getting recaptured or… worse. Is there somewhere else I can take you? Corellia, maybe? It’ll still be an adjustment given your condition, but you might be more comfortable there, in familiar surroundings.”

Han’s hands were practically shaking as she spoke, his face turning red with a stubborn anger she had seen many times in the past yet only a handful of those times had it been directed at her. He snorted and pushed his food away. “So that’s it, huh? Just one day together and then it’s ‘so long nice knowing you’?”

The anger that rolled off of Han wasn’t a surprise and that it was directed at Luke even less so, but the way he was shaping it was what caught her off guard. She had thought for sure that after her confession he would be glad to be rid of her, not this. “Han, you don’t understand: I’m a fugitive from the Empire now. Every moment you spend with me is putting you further in danger.” 

“That’s nothing new,” he huffed. “That’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before.”

“It’s different now!”

“How?” he barked, challengingly. “How is it different?”

Luke sputtered, reeling in her words before she could say something she would regret. Instead she stood, pushed away from the table and took a step back. This wasn’t going at all as she had planned. “Don’t you understand that I’m trying to protect you? Why are you making this so difficult?”

“Well I’m sorry that I’m not making abandoning a friend easy on you!” He stood in order to match Luke, but his movements were ungraceful, clumsy as he struggled to position himself in front of her. “Yesterday you told me that everyone I knew is dead and today you want to disappear. How am I supposed to take that?”

“You’re supposed to be grateful!” she heard herself snap. “You should be relieved not to have to be near me anymore. Don’t you understand? I did this, all of this! It’s my fault they’re dead. It’s my fault they’re all gone and everything is _worse_ than it was before, but if I can just save you then I won’t have one more person to add to the list of the dead and gone.”

“Don’t give me that Jedi martyr crap!”

“Haven’t you heard anything I’ve been telling you? I’m not a Jedi anymore, I’m a Sith! Vader corrupted me and he won’t be happy until he’s finished me off. I’m his own daughter and all he does is hurt me, torture me! What do you think he’ll do if he finds me with you?”

Han reached for her, his hands finding their way to her shoulders as his grip landed with a surprising amount of intensity. Luke felt the energy around him shifting, charging in a different direction. The anger was still there, but there was something else mingling with it, and Luke only understood what it was when Han bent down and slammed their mouths together. 

Luke’s mind was reeling as Han’s desires poured over her like hot wax. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been kissed, really and truly, but she had dreamed of kissing Han for longer than she wanted to admit. 

She had been attracted to him right from the start, even when he mocked and teased her and Ben and the Force she found herself drawn to him. Luke could still recall the time she had voiced her attraction to Leia, confessing her crush as if it were some guarded secret when looking back every action had made her feelings painfully obvious.

Yet Han who was always so vocal and open about everything had never put words to it, and Luke knew he was too experienced and world weary not to have noticed. She had taken his silence as an indication of disinterest, but it was clear from this moment that she had read things all wrong.

Han tasted dry, his peeling lips like sand against her mouth, and the bristles of his beard were almost painful as they scratched at her skin. It wasn’t anything like how she had imagined kissing Han would be, but his touch felt good, soothing, made her feel like a person again instead of a weapon or worse, a monster. Luke felt her skin tingle as electricity charged through her body as she reached for Han, running desperate touch starved fingers through his scraggly hair and pressed their bodies flushed together. His frame was thin, yet sturdy. His hands moved from hers arms to around her waist and Luke was shocked that he had actually managed to lift her off her feet. 

Everything felt good and warm and light, until Han’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of her tunic and began to run up and down her back. Panic stilled her breath, the fear enough to smoother the electricity running through her at the thought that Han might feel one of her scars or touch a synthetic implant and Luke found herself pushing him away with a bit more force than necessary.

“I can’t,” she breathed just as Han offered her a quick “Sorry.”

He took a breath and stepped away, his hands withdrawing, but his body seemed reluctant to put much distance between them. “Sorry,” he said again, his head hung low as his milky eyes swept across the floor. There was desperation and uncertainty in him and those were things so foreign to Han that Luke had a hard time wrapping her head around the feelings. “But… I don’t wanna let this go. I was trapped in the dark for so long and then I heard your voice and… it felt like I was being pushed back into the light. Look I… I know what you went through was terrible, but… but I don’t care what you did. You’ll always be Luke to me.”

Her head swam as she processed Han’s words and recalled what Obi-Wan had told her. Her old master had said that Luke had been a prisoner of the dark side and now she was leading Han into the light. Obi-Wan had seen this, the Force had brought her here, to Han and she couldn’t turn away from that now. 

Luke smiled and reached for his hands, squeezing his rough fingers and feeling the warmth even from her fabric of her gloves. “I’m sorry, Han,” she told him. “I… I don’t want to push you away, but I was just scared. We found each other and that has to mean something. I won’t abandon you again.”

Relief washed over Han’s face, his eyes growing watery as he turned his head away as if to hide the tears from her. She reached out and touched his cheek, allowing her gloved palm to rest there until he relaxed into her touch. 

She wouldn’t turn away from the light again, wouldn’t allow herself to be drawn back into the darkness. Vader may continue to lurk and stalk her every move, but in that moment she made a vow not to go down without a fight.


End file.
